No Rest For The Wicked
by Cupcake-Ninja-Platypus
Summary: When Clive is released from jail, he has nowhere to go- Until the Professor takes him in. But just when he's settled in there, the ex-convict goes missing. Anger, heartache, and the madness that previously consumed him are just some of the things that he has to deal with. Contains OCs, but only one major one. Rated T to be careful. The first of a nameless triology. Please R&R :3
1. Released

**A/N: Hey everyone! Sooo, ages ago, I tried writing a story about Clive, and it well and truly failed ._. And then a bit later, I tried again... Which resulted in this. I've had the first chapter saved in my documents for a while, but I've only just started continuing with it. I wasn't going to upload it yet, since I have two other stories that I want to finish first, but I figured it won't do any harm to put this on too XD**

**I think it only has one OC in it, but I might add a few minor ones later on or something. She doesn't pop up until a little bit later on in the story. I don't think she's a Mary-Sue, but you do, then _please_ tell me so I can do something about it. Mary-Sues are just the worst -_-**

**Anyway, enjoy! :3**

**(Disclaimer: I don't own Professor Layton... My name isn't Level 5... It's Cupcake-Ninja-Platypus. I only own Alyssa the OC, but don't tell her that or she'll kill me. She doesn't like be told that she's owned XD)**

* * *

Clive wandered around the quiet, dark streets, wishing that he had somewhere, anywhere to go. Since he had been let out of prison an hour ago, he had officially become homeless and penniless. And of course, friendless…. He had earlier asked a woman where the nearest hotel was- or rather, started to, seeing as she had ran away screaming before he could finish his question. After that, he kept his blue hat down low. Looking around, he frowned. He found himself in the park.

It wasn't a nice park, to put its condition politely. Its long, yellow grass was scattered with dandelions and litter. The slide and roundabout had got graffiti all over them, and there were no swings left. Beer cans and cigarette buds littered the pathway, probably from gangs of thugs. It wasn't the best place ever. But, Clive thought, there was a very reasonable bench. Sighing and wondering how he'd been reduced to this, he laid down on the bench.

If he only had somewhere to stay for a while, just until he'd got himself on his feet, got himself a job…. But here he was, stuck on the streets, spending his first night out of prison on a park bench, which, according to the graffiti, was "Property of Jezza". He felt like a complete idiot…. Just five years before, he was a normal boy at college, with no family, few friends, and a large sum of money. What went wrong? Well, of course, there was him trying to destroy London… He didn't want to think about it. Clive had to stop looking back, and start looking forwards, to his future- which hopefully wouldn't be on a park bench.

He vowed, right there and then, that he would do everything that he could to make his future a lot better than his past. Smiling slightly, his eyes fluttered closed, and he drifted off into sleep.

* * *

"Clive… Clive?" He snapped open his eyes. Smiling next to him was an all too familiar face. "So we meet again Professor... How're you?" Clive asked, sitting up and straightening his hat. "Quite good. A little better than you, I suppose," Layton frowned slightly. The young man, a little agitated now, folded his arms. "Well, I didn't exactly have the money or time to check into a five star hotel, Professor." He told the man, irritably "I only got out of prison late last night. I needed sleep. Even if most of it was filled with nightmares."

The Professor raised an eyebrow questioningly. "You have nightmares, Clive?" What about?" Clive waved his hand dismissively. "Flashbacks of the deaths of people I love. Everyone hating me more than they already do. Lots of other things. But, nothing I can't handle."

Layton sighed. "Clive, it's not good if you have nightmares, surely you know that. And sleeping out here isn't good either." "Well, Professor, where exactly do you suggest I sleep? I have no money, no relatives and no friends." Clive snapped, and was a little taken aback when the Professor smiled. "My dear boy, you may consider me as merely an acquaintance, but I would consider you as a friend. That is why I am inviting you to stay with me and Flora- and Luke when he visits tomorrow."

Clive's mouth hung open. After all that he had done… the Professor was helping him? He didn't know what to do. Accepting the offer would suggest that he was desperate, but declining would mean that he was homeless… Maybe until he got a job, got back on his feet…

"Th-Thank you Professor…. It's very kind of you to offer…. But of course, I won't need to stay for long, just until I get a job, get a place to stay-" he started, stammering with shock at the kind offer, but the Professor cut him off, which was quite out of character for him. "Clive, by all means, feel free to stay as long as you want. You know what they say; the more the merrier." Layton smiled. "Now, come along, Clive. It's getting a little chilly." Clive nodded. "Yes, Professor." And he followed the older man to his little red car.

The journey to the Professor's flat was long and awkward. No noise could be heard apart from the rushing of early morning traffic and the occasional person on the streets of London. There was no conversation between the two, and Clive quite frankly wasn't sure what to do. Should he talk? Or should he just sit there, letting the awkward silence loom over them? Deciding he should just stay silent, he looked out of the window. They passed many familiar places; Scotland Yard prison, where Clive had spent the past five years of his life, Midland Road, where the "wormhole" to "Future London" was, the apartments where he had lived before his parents died-

He squeezed his eyes shut. The last thing he wanted was to be reminded of his parent's deaths right now. Shaking his head, he opened his eyes and looked down. Clive wasn't sure how long he sat there, looking down and trying to think of happy thoughts, but the next thing he knew, the strange red car had come to a halt outside a block of flats.

Silently, the two men both got out of the car. Just when Clive dreaded there was going to be more awkward silence, the Professor said "Clive, I'd just like to clear something up before we get home."

"Yes, Professor?" The young man asked, curiously.

"I understand that you are trying to be tough right now, but I would appreciate it if you tried to keep your manners."

A pink tinge appeared in Clive's cheeks. "O-Of course Professor. I'm really sorry if it seemed as if I was being rude earlier, I was just a little tired, and I'd spent the night on a park bench and-"

"Don't worry, Clive. I understand." The Professor smiled. Both men went through the door of the flats, and got into the elevator. Layton pressed a button, which looked rather sticky, and the elevator beeped, before going upwards. When it arrived at the top floor, the older man led his companion to a small door, put a key in the keyhole, and turned it.

"Welcome to your new home, Clive," he smiled, before opening the door.


	2. Home

**A/N: Here's the next chapter! (: I know, it's a quick update... But I've already written about 5 chapters :P **

**Enjoy!**

**(I'm not going to put any more disclaimers in here, because I'm very, very lazy xD)**

* * *

Clive didn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't this. Perhaps he had thought of a Professor's home to be untidy, with papers everywhere, but then again, that would probably be more like an office. Or maybe he had thought of something a little bigger; However, both of his presumptions were wrong.

The living room of the flat which they had just entered looked quite sophisticated. Underneath their feet, was a pale duck-egg blue carpet, matching the colour on the walls. The kitchen was just around a small corner, as far as Clive could see, and there were five doors leading to different places. The Professor walked inside, and sat on a brown sofa, and the young man followed him, doing the same. In a sofa across from them, a small figure was sat, engrossed in a book. Clive instantly felt awkward, and slightly embarrassed. He didn't need the Professor's greeting to know who it was.

"Hello Flora."

"Hi, Professor." Flora didn't look up from her book as she spoke, utterly mesmerized by the text.

"Flora, we have a guest who's staying in our house for a while. I'm sure you remember-"

"Clive!" Flora squealed, and, dropping her book, she fled through one of the doors, shutting it quickly behind her. It seemed that she had looked up when the Professor had mentioned the guest. "Oh dear…" He muttered, and walked forwards to retrieve the girl's book. To his surprise, Clive got there first.

"I'll return this to her, Professor." He told the older man, then added with a weak grin, "She has to get used to me at one point, hasn't she? And after all, there's no time like the present." Before his companion could say a word, he followed the girl's path.

Pushing open the door, Clive found himself in a room which seemed to be shrouded in pink. The walls were painted a soft pink, and in the corner there was a bed which had covers on in a slightly deeper shade. There was a bookshelf hung on the shelf, which wasn't pink, however the armchair next to it was. His feet sinking into a spongy cream carpet, Clive walked up to the bed and sat on it, next to a small figure huddled against a wall.

"Hi," He smiled at Flora, but her frightened expression didn't change. "You dropped this." Holding out the book, he made a mental note to be as kind to her as possible. After all, he couldn't bear it if another person feared him. Her hand trembling, the small girl cautiously received it from Clive's hand.

"So, Agatha Christie, huh? Good choice." He told her, grinning. Flora nodded, and then said shakily, out of the blue, "Why are you being so nice, Clive?"

"I suppose I'm just a naturally nice person."

"You _kidnapped_ me!"

"I did, didn't I?" Oops. He had forgotten about that, and now he had another reason to feel guilty. "Sorry about that Flora." Clive paused, thinking of an appropriate answer. "Well, the Professor's been kind enough to let me stay here for a while, so I can't exactly be horrible to him. And besides, look where being _not _nice got me before."

Flora thought about this, then nodded again. "I see."

"So, shall we go back into the room, Flora?" He asked her, "Because I think the Professor's making us tea. I can hear the kettle boiling."

"Okay." She got up from the bed, before shooting him a suspicious glance. "I'm still not going to trust you until I know I can." Clive felt a pang. Just when he'd thought she was getting almost better.

He didn't show his feelings. In fact, he just shrugged, and grinned. "Fair enough." And with that they walked out of the room together.

Layton was sat on a sofa, pouring tea into three cups from a white, china teapot. When the two walked back into the room, he smiled at them. "So, have you two settled your differences, then?"

Flora didn't say anything, so Clive supposed that he had to. "Sort of." He took his place on another sofa, and the small girl sat next to the Professor. As far away as possible from the young man.

The Professor passed Clive one of the cups, still smiling. Taking it, he returned the expression. "Thank you, Professor." "No problem, Clive."

As he passed the other cup to Flora, Clive took time to reflect on what had happened in the past two days. He had been released from prison. He had slept on a park bench. And he had been taken in by the Professor. It was quite a lot to take in, compared to the reasonably quiet life he had had in jail, but he supposed that he'd adapt to it.

Prison. The most horrible place in the world that Clive could think of. He couldn't bear the food, it was as cold as ice inside of there, and you couldn't hear yourself think over the jeers of the other inmates. But there was one thing that had almost made these things worth it.

That's when Clive remembered. He had to go back. He couldn't just leave _her_ there forever. After all, who knew how long it'd be before she would be let out. No, he'd have to visit her. Perhaps he'd ask the Professor's permission later.

Layton seemed to be thinking about jail, too. "You know, Clive, you were lucky to get out of Scotland Yard so early. After all, it must have only been, what, three years you spent in there?"

"Three and a half years, actually," His companion told him, taking a sip off tea. To be honest, he didn't exactly want to talk about the subject. "And I have absolutely no idea why my sentence was so short. After all, I've done things a lot worse than half of the people in there, but most of them have been in longer than me."

"Hrm." Clive almost thought he could hear the cogs whizzing in Layton's brain. He was trying to figure out why he had been let out early. "Could anyone have possibly wanted to shorten your sentence, Clive?"

"Shorten my sentence? _Ha_!" Flora looked startled by Clive's sudden laugh, but he couldn't help it. The idea of somebody wanting to shorten his sentence was just so amusing to him, in a strange way. "Professor, the only people I know that aren't in prison wanted me in there as much as anybody else in London did."

"That's not true, Clive." Layton told him, softly. "We didn't want you in there."

"Oh. Well, I'm flattered, Professor, truly. But you of all people should want me locked away."

"Should I?" The Professor chuckled slightly. "Well, I'm afraid that I don't." He paused for a moment. "You said that the only people you knew that weren't in prison wanted you in there. So does this mean that you've made friends in prison?"

Clive nodded. "Only one. My cellmate, Alyssa. We're quite close."

All of a sudden, Flora started giggling timidly, and the young man felt his cheeks go red. "Not like that! We're just friends, Flora!"

Layton couldn't resist the urge to laugh a little along with the girl. "I'm sure you are, Clive. After all, there's no shame in having friends of the opposite gender. Just look at Luke and Flora." At once, Flora stopped laughing.

"But _we're _just friends too!"

* * *

**Please reveiw!:)**

**Seriously, I mean ****_please _****reveiw. Reveiws really inspire me to carry on x) **

**Hope you like this c:**


	3. Night

**A/N: Ohaaai! So, yeah, here's the new chapter... I would've updated a bit earlier, but I, uh... Got kindapped by an elephant. Yeah. I toootally didn't just forget.**

**Anyway, enjoy, and please reveiw! (Seriously, please. I only have one person reveiwing so far- And to that person, you are very very awesome- But I can see that other people are reading it. Pweeeash reveiw?)**

* * *

Clive looked around. Where was he? There was a lake next to him, with trees surrounding the area. Strange. Walking around a little, he saw a small silhouette leaning against a tree, one that he recognised. Running up to her, he called "Flora!" –Or rather, tried to, since all that came out of his mouth was a mean, merciless laugh.

Flora had noticed him, and her eyes went as round as saucers. Silently, she started to back away. Confused, Clive tried again. "_Flora! _It's okay!" But instead of his words, the same heartless laugh came. Instantly, the small girl started running, scared half to death.

What had just happened? The young man was puzzled. Why couldn't he speak? Sighing slightly, he walked to the lake's edge, trying to figure out where he was, and what was going on. But what he saw shocked him more than anything else that had happened.

His reflection stared back at him from the rippling water, except that it wasn't him.

Clive wasn't sure what it was, but he looked so much more… Eviler. Was it his malicious smirk? Or perhaps it was his clothes, black and blood-stained… Something sharp was sticking out of his pocket. Oh God, oh God, oh God. The colour drained from his face- Flora had every reason to be scared.

Of course, he knew that this was only a dream. But his reflection showed perfectly how much of a monster he really was inside.

Cold sweat ran down Clive's face as he bolted upright. Where was he? This didn't look like prison… And then he remembered. He was in the Professor's house. Hm. At the moment, it seemed like a constant reminder around him of what he'd done.

It was strange, how one nightmare could make him as dizzy as he was then. But he was sort of used to it, seeing as it happened all the time. Sometimes it was so bad that he passed out. That was how bad he felt now.

Sighing slightly, Clive pulled the crispy, white covers off of him, and got out of bed. What was the time? He peered at the clock which was hanging on the cream wall. Three o'clock in the morning. And he felt as if he could never get back to sleep.

Dragging himself from the warmth of his bed, he got up and started to walk to the kitchen. Perhaps a glass of water could make him feel better. The blue pyjamas which he had borrowed from the Professor trailed behind him, quite large for his skinny frame. In fact, he had become so thin over the past years that if he was smaller, Luke's pyjamas would have fit him.

Finally reaching the cold kitchen, Clive got himself a drink, goose bumps appearing on his arms. For summer, it was actually quiet chilly- But then again, it _was _the middle of the night.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps came from behind him and the young man span around, slightly spilling water. But, much to his relief, it was only the Professor. If Clive had been more awake, or less ill, then he would have found it hard not to laugh at the sight of the Professor in pyjamas. They were red, and quite old fashioned- Although they suited his style, it was still a strange sight.

"Clive, what are you doing awake at this time of night?"

"Getting a drink of water. What're you doing?"

The Professor frowned. "I heard noises, so I came to investigate." He walked up to the table in the middle of the room, and sat down. Clive followed his footsteps, and sat next to him. "So, Clive, can't you get to sleep?"

"You jumped to that conclusion very quickly, Professor. I might have just been thirsty." His companion told him, before pausing for a second. "But yes, I can't seem to get to sleep without having a nightmare."

Layton's frown got deeper. "I still think that something should be done about your dreams, Clive."

Clive laughed, a short and sharp sound. "Professor, like I said, it's nothing I can't handle; I'm used to it. And besides, you know what they say," The young man smiled, but his dark eyes looked cold. "There's no rest for the wicked."

"You aren't wicked, Clive."

"That's just a matter of opinion."

"Hm. Well, anyway, I'm going back to bed. Goodnight, Clive." The Professor got up, and Clive took a sip of his drink, before answering. "Goodnight, Professor." As the older man began walking away, a sudden idea struck his companion. "Oh- Professor?"

He turned around, looking curious. "Yes?"

"Do you remember when I mentioned my cellmate earlier?"

"Yes, Clive. Alyssa, wasn't it?"

"That's right. I was just… I was wondering if I could visit her some time." A slight pink tinge appeared in Clive's cheeks. It was nothing to be ashamed of, being friends with Alyssa, but Flora's earlier implication had embarrassed him.

"Of course you can, Clive. We can go when Luke's settled in." The Professor paused for a second. "Would you like us to accompany you there? After all, being in prison might trigger some… unhappy memories."

Clive smiled weakly. "Thank you. I'd like that." Yawning, he got up as well. "I think I'm going to go back to bed too, Professor."

Layton chuckled. "Alright, Clive. I hope you sleep well."

"Likewise. Goodnight again, Professor."

"Goodnight again, Clive."

The two men walked back to their rooms, and got into bed. And, as Clive laid there, for the short space of time before he fell asleep, he thought of how lucky he was to have someone like the Professor as a friend. So, when he got to sleep, it was the first time since his parents had died that he slept peacefully- Undisturbed and happy.


	4. Reunion

**A/N: Heeeeeey errybody!**

**Okay, I'm gonna have to start the Author's Note with some bad news. I can't update everyday or so for a while, because I'm going on holiday to France from 10th-16th D: ****But during the twelve hour (Ohgawd) car journey there, I'll be sure to daydream up some future chapters for you all, and I'm taking a notebook to blot down my ideas and shit. **

**Anyways, I'll upload the next chapter as soon as I get back, and it's a pretty important one. It's Clive's memories of being in prison, with his cellmate, Alyssa. **

**So, yaaah... Enjoy the chapter(:**

* * *

The sun was shining through the curtains blindingly when Clive woke up the next morning. Stretching and yawning, he got out of bed and opened the curtains. He glanced at the clock on his bedroom wall- It was 11 o'clock. This was quite late for him, and he suspected that everyone else would already be awake. Hurriedly, he changed into his clothes, made his bed, and then went out of his bedroom.

To Clive's surprise, nobody was in the kitchen. Frowning slightly, he walked around, looking everywhere, almost as if the Professor would be hiding somewhere. And then he saw a small sheet of paper on the table. Perhaps, he thought, it was a letter or something, and he shouldn't look at it. But, curiosity got the better of him, so he walked over to the table and picked it up.

It was a good job he did, since the note was meant from him.

_Clive,_

_Flora and I have gone to pick Luke up from the ferry. I would have woken you up, but you seemed so peaceful. If you want breakfast, cereal and bread are in the cupboards. We shouldn't be long._

_Professor Layton._

Of course, that was where they'd gone. Clive had forgotten that Luke was coming. As he got some bread from the cupboard to make toast, he wondered what Luke's reaction to him being here would be. Much to his annoyance, some of the things he imagined almost amused him.

Ugh. Clive had to get these sick thoughts out of his head, if he ever wanted to be like everyone else… It was just this house, these people. Too many memories came back to him by just looking at Flora, or the Professor's top hat. And, even worse, the flat was pretty much the same layout as the one he had lived in with his parents. Before they-

He wasn't going to think about them. He couldn't. It was too painful.

Clive tried to change the subject on his mind. But it was impossible. Once he started thinking about them, he couldn't stop.

A lone tear fell from his eye. How. How could he let his life get like this? Here he was sat, in a friend's house, with no money, crying over his dead parents. Who would have guessed that the smart, charming young boy he had been would become a sad, lonely orphan in the space of ten years?

If only Bill Hawks hadn't been so stubborn… Huh. That never would have happened. Clive thought that Bill Hawks was the most stubborn, ignorant, _arrogant _person on earth. His hands curled into fists. This topic wasn't any better to think about.

"Welcome home, Luke!" Came a high, girlish voice from the door. Instantly, Clive wiped the tear which was still running down his face, desperately hoping that his eyes weren't red.

"Flora, this isn't my home, silly!" Luke's voice came after hers, but he seemed to freeze straight after he'd said it. "Professor, is that…?"

Clive turned around, wearing a grin resembling that of a Cheshire Cat. "Hello, Luke. It's nice to see you again, too." The next thing he knew, Luke had run towards him, with a face like thunder. Quickly, the Professor grabbed the young boy, holding him back.

"Luke! Clive is a _guest _here!"

"A… A guest?" He stopped struggling, his mouth open in a comical _o_.

"Yes, Luke, I'm staying here for a while." A glint could be seen in Clive's eye. He was going to take advantage of the opportunity to tease Luke as much as possible.

"B-But…"

"Luke, while Clive is a guest here, he will be treated as part of the family. Understood?"

"Yes, Professor." Luke glared at the older boy, whose smile grew wider in reply. This was going to be fun.

* * *

"Clive, are you sure you want to go back there so soon after your release?" It was the next morning, and the Professor and Clive were standing outside of the Laytonmobile, while Luke and Flora fought over the front seat. They were about to go to Scotland Yard Prison, to visit Clive's former cellmate.

The young man nodded. "Yes, Professor," Then he added, seeing the look on his companion's face, "I'll be _fine, _honestly." He didn't see why the Professor thought that he wouldn't be able to cope with visiting the prison; It wasn't like he'd have a mental breakdown or something when he arrived there. Honestly, he might have been an ex-convict, but he was still sane.

Nodding, the Professor got into the driver's seat. Clive, on the other hand, returned the only slightly malicious grin to his face which he had worn almost constantly for the past day. "Come on, Luke." He picked the young boy, who was still squabbling with Flora, up and put him in the back seat, before sitting next to him.

"Hey!" He shot daggers at the man next to him, who laughed.

"Now, now, Luke, a true gentleman always lets a lady sit in the front seat," Clive told him, mimicking the Professor's formal tone. Luke burst out laughing, which was soon following by Flora's giggling.

"Hmph." The Professor started the car, visibly fighting to hide the smile that was threatening to come.

Leaning back in his seat, the young man couldn't keep the satisfied smirk off of his face. He had managed to get the whole car practically in hysterics with something as simple as that. Maybe he was changing after all. Well, it was either that, or they were laughing at his feeble attempt at humour. Oh well. It was an improvement on the awkward mood that had been lingering in the air for the past day, anyway.

Clive looked out of the window, pleased that today had gotten off to a fairly good start. Suddenly, a brightly coloured object whizzing past the car caught his attention.

"Ow!" Luke yelped, glaring at the older boy, who had just punched him on the arm.

"Yellow car," He replied, as if it was a perfectly reasonable excuse.

"So you want to start that game, huh?" The blue-clad boy replied, grinning darkly. Clive wasn't sure that he liked his expression…

* * *

A car journey later, Clive's arm felt as if it was about to drop off. It turned out that Luke was good at the "Yellow Car" game. Making a mental note never to start that game with him _ever_ again, he got out of the car.

"Wow…" Flora looked up at the building in front of them with wide eyes. She was probably regretting coming here already.

"Clive-" Layton started, but was soon cut off by him.

"Yes, Professor, I'm sure I want to go in," Clive told him, and then added as he opened his mouth to speak again, "Positive."

He looked up at the building, a smile beginning to form on his lips. Scotland Yard Prison held many memories for him. But not all of them were bad.


	5. Memories

**A/N: Guess who's back from holidaaaaay?**

**In case you didn't get that, it's me ._.**

**So, anywaysh, here's an extended chapter to make up from the long time which I couldn't update! Yaay! This chapter's basically just Clive's memories from being in prison. *_flashback to last chapter: "Scotland Yard held many memories for Clive. And not all of them were bad."* _**

**Hope you enjoooy!**

* * *

Clive_ walked along the hall, lined with cells. Nervously, he looked at the inhabitants, he glared viciously back at him. He had only been here for five minutes, yet he was already regretting the decision to come quietly. Prison was full of low-lives who were in for stupid things like stealing. Not that he wanted to brag, but he doubted there was another person in here with intelligence rival to his own. Of course there wasn't; Anyone who had concocted a master plan like his own would either be dead or smart enough not to get caught._

_The two strong guards holding him roughly led Clive through a door, into another corridor. His brows knitted in confusion. The inmates in here couldn't be more different to the previous ones. Most of them here were hugging their knees, rocking back and forth or muttering to themselves. _

"_Where are we?" He asked, commandingly. One of the guards grunted and jerked a stubby finger towards a sign above a cell. _

"WARD FOR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE."

_Criminally insane. Criminally. Insane. _

_Insane._

_The words echoed in Clive's mind as he took them in. He was… Insane? Well, of course, everybody would think that. After all, he'd claimed that the Prime Minister _killed _his parents. People were bound to think that he was crazy._

_Tearing him from his thoughts, he was shoved harshly into a cell at the very end of the corridor. The last thing he caught a glimpse of before a metal door was closed on him, with only a slit for him to see though, was the looks of hatred on the guards' face._

_Sighing, he took a look around his new home. It was very dark, seeing as the only source of light came from the space in the door for him to see through, and the small area between the bottom of it and the floor. There was a tiny bed in the corner, with a scratchy looking sheet on top of it. Across from the bed, was a small sink with a toilet next to it. Clive wrinkled up his nose at the thought of the toilet being so close to the bed. It was going to be a _long _prison sentence._

* * *

"_Dove."_

_Clive stopped what he was doing at the sound of his name. Before he had been interrupted, he'd been making up random little haikus about anything in particular. It may have sounded strange, but it helped pass the time. _

_Curious, he got up from his bed and walked over to the door. Peering through the slot which he used to look at the outside world, he saw another pair of eyes staring back at him._

"_Get your stuff and get going. We're moving you." Stuff? Clive snorted. He had no "stuff" to get, since it had been confiscated from him when he first got to the prison. That was a year ago, and he hadn't seen it since._

_Obediently, he went over to the door, which opened just as he reached it. Stood on the other side was none other than Inspector Chelmey. Clive wondered why he hadn't recognised his voice- Then again, it _had _been a year since he'd last heard it._

_The Inspector grabbed hold of the young boy's arm, and began walking. Hundreds of eyes watched the glow, unnerving the younger of the two._

"_So, I'm getting moved? Is that because I'm classed as sane now?" He asked, putting what had been on his mind into speech._

"_Well, you're getting moved out of the loony ward, aren't you?" Chelmey replied, gruff sarcasm dripping from his voice. Clive rolled his eyes. He'd missed having the company of others, but at least he hadn't had to endure annoying remarks. _

_When they reached the cells, he was surprised to see that the rest of the cells were empty. After a moment of thinking, though, he came to the conclusion that everybody else must be in the cafeteria, since it was probably lunch time or something. Silently, Clive walked into the cell that Inspector Chelmey opened, and watched wordlessly as he walked away._

_The layout of this cell was pretty much the same as the last one, apart from the fact that it had bunk beds instead of just a bed, and there were bars on the front instead of a metal door. It seemed nicer in here, probably because it was a lot lighter. _

_After looking around, he made himself comfortable the top bunk of the bed. For a while, he just laid there, thinking. But a voice soon made him stir._

"_What the hell are you doing in here?!" _

_A young, angry looking girl was stood in the cell, having just entered. She was quite small, with messy, tangled black hair which stopped halfway down her back. Her arms were folded over her chest, her gaze fixed on him. Clive thought that she looked fairly younger than himself. _

"_It would seem that I'm your new roommate." He told her, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly at her furious expression._

"_There's hundreds of prisoners here and they dump you with _me?!" _She snapped, mostly to herself. She paused for a moment, glancing at the bed._

"_Get off of my bunk."_

"_Your bunk? No way, this is _mine _now."_

"_Get. Off. Now." Her voice was dangerously quiet._

"_You snooze, you lose," Clive told her, amused by her reaction._

"_Dove, get the hell off of my bunk!" The girl yelled, before grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him forcefully. It _was _only a pillow, but he hadn't been expecting it, causing him to topple off of the bed. A triumphant look on her face, she climbed up the ladder, and onto the top bunk._

_She sat there, obviously happy about regaining her territory. Then all of a sudden, she felt the weight of another person on the bed._

"_So, you know who I am?" Clive asked, the pillow that she'd thrown at him in his hands. Although the fall was hard, he'd been through worse._

"_Of course I know who you are, everybody in freakin' England knows who you are." _

"_Well, who are you?"_

_His roommate hesitated, looking at him suspiciously. But then she seemed to decide that she could trust him. "Alyssa Woodbrow."_

"_How old are you, Alyssa?"_

_Alyssa gave him a weird look. "What are you, a stalker?"_

"_Nope, just a terrorist." Clive joked, not showing how disgusted he felt by that word. That was what he was, though. As horrible as it might sound, it was true. "I'm going to guess that you're about ten?"_

"_I'm nineteen, idiot!" It seemed that she couldn't take a joke. Or perhaps she just found this particular one too offensive. "Anyway, how old are you, twelve?"_

"_Twenty-two." Clive had always looked young for his age too. But personally, he thought that Alyssa looked more so. Maybe it was because she was so small._

"_Huh." There was a somewhat awkward silence. Neither of them knew what to say. But eventually, it was him who broke the tension._

"_I still haven't forgiven you for throwing a pillow at me."_

"_It was a _pillow, _Clive. Not a rock." Alyssa replied, flatly. _

"_Well so is this." Before she could reply, he brought the pillow up, and hit her harshly on the head with it. Her eyes narrowed._

"_Oh no you did not." She grabbed another pillow, and smacked him around the face with it. Soon, they had started a huge pillow fight. Their laughter and occasional groans drew attention to them, but they didn't notice._

"_Dove! Woodbrow! Quit flirting!" A guard who was patrolling barked._

_Alyssa dropped her pillow and looked at him, horrified. "We're _NOT _flirting!" She looked back at Clive. "Get off of my bunk, Dove!" _

"_Finders keepers."_

"_Argh!" She shot him a deadly look, before jumping from the bed, and sitting on the bottom bunk, with a huff. Clive smirked. Perhaps prison was going to be a lot more fun than he'd first expected._

* * *

_Clive wandered around the prison yard, carrying his lunch tray, wondering where to go. It was the one day of the month that they were allowed outside. Everywhere seemed to be taken up by intimidating looking prisoners, who looked like they were all brawn and no brain. In fact, there was only one bench that was empty. No, wait, _almost _empty, since there was a small girl sat at it; A very familiar small girl._

"_Hey, Alyssa." He plonked himself down next to her. Alyssa, who was absent-mindedly stirring the grey mush on her plate around, turned to look at him. "Ew. It's you."_

"_Ooh, since when have you been a poet?"_

"_Oh, shut up."_

_Her arm suddenly caught Clive's eye- It may have sounded strange, but he had just noticed something._

"_Alyssa, why are your arms so tanned? I mean, we hardly ever go out."_

_She sighed, irritably. "I'm not tanned. My dad was Spanish, stupid." Her voice sounded really annoyed, and he guessed that she was insecure about this feature. He didn't see why, though. Most girls put a lot of effort into getting tanned. But then again, she wasn't like most girls._

"_Oh, um, right. Sorry. I… I wasn't trying to be racist or anything." His cheeks flushed a little._

"_It's fine. Forget it." She smiled slightly, amused by his awkward statement. It only added to the awkwardness when he tried to change the subject. "Anyway, aren't you going to eat any of that?" He asked, looking at her untouched food. _

"_Didn't anyone tell you that begging's illegal?"_

"_I wasn't asking for it."_

"_Oh." She looked down, a little embarrassed at her misinterpretation. "Well, to answer your question, yeah. I'm just trying to figure out what it is. I mean, come on, that doesn't look like anything I've seen in my life."_

"_Hmm…" Clive pretended to look at the slop through a magnifying glass. Alyssa rolled her eyes, but she was laughing. "I've come to the conclusion that it is probably mashed potato." He told her, putting on a very typical British accent._

"_Elementary, my dear Watson." She told him, in the same voice._

"_Obviously not, or you'd have figured it out yourself," He grinned, nudging her. This sort of behaviour had been discarded by him since he was a child, until now. That was the last time he had a friend._

_Clive looked at Alyssa and his grin widened. She might not have wanted to admit it, but they were definitely becoming friends._

* * *

_Had it really been three and a half years since Clive had first entered prison? He couldn't believe that he was leaving already. His sentence was over at last. True, it had been a _lot_ shorter than he'd expected, but he didn't really care. Finally, he could see the outside world; but he would miss Alyssa. They had only known each other for two and a half years, but it felt as though they were lifelong friends._

_His roommate wrapped her arms around him, her eyes squeezed shut. "I'm going to miss you so much, Clive."_

"_I'm going to miss you too, Alyssa."_

"_There's only another month until I'm out as well. We can keep in touch, right?"_

"_Of course! You're my best friend, stupid, I'm not just going to lose contact with you forever."_

"_Ha, ha. It's been almost three years, but you're still as funny as ever."_

"_And you're still as sarcastic as ever."_

"_Dove! Come on, already!" The gruff voice of a guard was like a wake-up slap to them. The two of them broke apart, their gaze fixed on each other. _

"_I'd better get going, then," Clive was almost sad that he was leaving. What if something happened, and he never saw Alyssa again? She was his best and only friend; He couldn't even bear to think of life without her._

"_I guess I'll see you then, Dove." The corners of his mouth twitched, forming a small smile. She hadn't called him that since they first met, and she was only doing it now to tease him. Or cheer him up. Or both._

"_See you then, Woodbrow."_

* * *

**If you want to see more of Alyssa, then check out my songfic "Perfect"- Buuuut it does have onesided Clive/OC in it. Just warning you there.**

**Anyway, hope you like this chapter! Please review (:**


	6. Visit

**A/N: WOO! NEW CHAPTER!**

**Soooo, in this chapter, we see Alyssa again! *Yaaay!* Personally, I quite like Alyssa, but if you don't, and/or think she's a Mary Sue, then PLEASE TELL ME. Asdfghjkl I hate Mary Sues. I hate Gary Stu's. I hate anything that ends in -ary -oo. Unless it's Mary Moo. 'Cause that's adorable ^-^**

**Aaanyways, here's the chapter! It's back to normal time now, no more memories :P Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

The group were led along a corridor, none of them speaking. Clive studied his companions' expressions, curiously. Flora looked absolutely terrified, Luke looked interested, and the Professor's face was unreadable. The young man wondered to himself if the Professor played poker- If he did, and then he'd have a good poker face.

As they were led into the visiting room, Clive looked at all of the prisoners on the other side of a glass wall. All of the prisoners were wearing the orange jumpsuits that they were forced to, and he couldn't help but be relieved that he wasn't. He wasn't fond of the colour orange, just like Alyssa. In his head, he made a mental note to tease her about that.

They reached their booth, and the policemen walked away, without saying anything. It was slightly awkward, since there was only one seat, so they all stood up at first. Eventually, the silence was broken by the Professor.

"Clive, would you like to take a seat? We're only accompanying you, after all."

"Alright, Professor." Clive sat down, looking through the dingy glass window. There were only a couple of holes through it for talking, and he hoped he'd be able to hear his friend.

As if on que, Alyssa came into view, followed by a guard. She sat down, looking at the gang wordlessly for a moment. "You came."

"Of course I did. What, did you think I was just going to leave you here feeling lonely?" Clive was a little taken aback that she hadn't expected him to come.

"Lonely?" The small girl snorted, "It's been a _lot _more peaceful without you here."

"What happened to 'I'm going to miss you so much, Clive'?"

"That was before I realised that you were the source of my constant headaches." There was a pause; Alyssa seemed to be looking at something behind him. Then he realised that she has probably noticed his companions.

"Oh, right, I forgot to introduce you." Clive spun around in his chair, so he could see both them and her. "Alyssa, meet Professor Layton, Luke Triton, and Flora Reinhold." He pointed at each of them in turn. "Professor, Luke, Flora, meet Alyssa Woodbrow." The trio all greeted their new acquaintance, who just sat there, one eyebrow raised.

"The same Professor Layton, Luke Triton, and Flora Reinhold who ruined your plan?"

"Well, yes, but that's not important. They've been nice enough to take me in for a while." Clive felt slightly awkward at her remark. She'd never been afraid to speak her mind.

"Nice enough? Ha, more like _crazy_ enough," Alyssa grinned. "Who'd want to take _you _in?"

In the background, Luke and Flora giggled. The Professor just looked as expressionless as earlier. Clive pouted like a naughty child, fighting the urge to smile. "You're so mean to me. Bullying isn't nice, you know."

"Aw, you know I love you really." The young, blue-clad boy wolf-whistled at Alyssa's words, possibly misinterpreting them.

"_Luke!"_ The two seated people whined, glaring at him. He laughed again. "You have to admit, you guys would make a good couple."

"I'd rather go out with a frog," She began, "-But then again, there's not much difference."

"Hey! What is this, pick on Clive day?" The older boy complained, glancing at her in mock anger.

"Perhaps we'd better leave you two alone?" The Professor asked, after being unusually quiet. He was probably a little put out by the earlier remark about him foiling Clive's plan. Luke looked like he was about to protest, since it seemed that he had started to warm up to Alyssa. However, Layton began to lead him and Flora out of the room. "We'll meet you outside, Clive."

The two remaining people watched them walk out of the room, before turning to look at each other again. "What's his problem?" She asked, her smile disappearing slightly.

"Well, people don't take too kindly to being frowned upon for foiling people's plans, Alyssa." He paused. "And that word you used. Foiled? It made me sound like a Scooby Doo villain." Alyssa started to laugh, which soon got louder as he put on an American accent, mimicking the characters from the cartoon. "And I would have succeeded too, if it weren't for you meddling kids!"

"Kids? And how old is Layton?"

They laughed together for a while, but the noise soon died down. For a moment, they just looked at each other, the almost-black eyes meeting the brown. Clive pressed his hand against the thick glass wall between them, and Alyssa did the same afterwards. Although there wasn't that much difference, his hand was bigger than hers, but they were both almost identically skinny.

"I miss you…" The words came out of his mouth barely louder than a whisper. It was true, he missed her. It had only been a few days, but it was too quiet without her. There was no-one for him to laugh with anymore. It was as if all of the fun had been sucked out of the world. Around the Professor and the children, he was formal and quiet. But with Alyssa, he was a completely different person.

"I miss you too," Her voice was hardly louder than his own. Hearing the sadness in it, Clive wondered how she'd been coping on her own. He'd heard that before he was her roommate, she was tough and aggressive. Only once had he seen this side of her; When she got into a fight in the prison yard. That was the most worried he'd ever felt in his time at prison. Before the guards had broken up the fight, it had looked like she was winning, though she'd come out of it with a broken nose. This was probably the reason why her stay in jail was as long as his.

"Will you write to me?" Her words snapped him out of his thoughts. The corners of his mouth twitched into a smile. "Why wouldn't I?"

Alyssa's mouth formed a tiny smile to match his own. She glanced at the doorway behind her friend, and her expression soon disappeared. "Well, I guess you'd better be head off, then."

"I guess. But, Alyssa?" Their eyes met once again, and she raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Stay strong."

"Stay strong? Clive, I do tough exercises and stretches every day, of course I'll stay strong." Although she was sad, it was nice to see her joking again, even if it was… Feeble.

"Although your comedic style's very, ahem, "_good"… _Don't give up the day job." They laughed together once more, although this time it was a lot shakier.

"Goodbye, then, Alyssa," Clive told her, with a sigh.

"Bye, then, Clive."

Sadly, she watched him turn around to walk away. But, to her surprise, he paused, and turned back around. Curious, she followed his movement with her eyes, as he reach into his pocket, pulled out a tiny, screwed up piece of paper, and pushed it through the small holes in the glass wall. With one last smile, he turned back around, and walked out of Scotland Yard Prison.

Frowning, Alyssa picked up the piece of paper, and unfolded it.

_Alyssa, _it read,

_In case I'm not waiting for you when you get out, for whatever reason that might be, here's the Professor's home address._

Underneath was an address and a flat number. Although she felt grateful that he'd given it to her, but she hoped that he was waiting for her. Noticing that there was more, she read on.

_I'm not sure why I'm giving this to you. After all, wild horses couldn't stop me from meeting you. I guess this is just in case._

_Love, Clive._

A flutter of happiness ran through her. For a start, he'd basically said that nothing could keep him from seeing her. But there was something else which she was more bothered about.

"Love, Clive."

_Love._

It might not have meant much to the average person, but it made her heart skip a beat. Normally, she wasn't one for love; She'd always thought that sappy, romance crap was a waste of time. So as she was led back to her cell, she mentally cursed Clive. For making her like him so much. For being so damn clueless about it all. But mostly, for not feeling the same way about her.

* * *

**And the sappy romance crap (See what I did there? ;3) begins! ...Yeah, this story will have more onesided Clive/OC in it, sorry if you're not a fan of that :/ I tried to write a story without romance in, I honestly did, but it seems that it's just not possible *sigh*. Oh well. At least it doesn't have as much romance as the sequel.**

**YES THERE WILL BE A SEQUEL. AND A THREEQUEL. HENCE I CALLED IT A "NAMELESS TRIOLOGY" IN THE BIO.**

**...I couldn't think of a name for the triology _**

**Anyways, please review! (:**


	7. Gone

**A/N: ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH.**

**My laptop charger. It broke. AGAIN. Seriously, this is like, the fourth one I've broken e_e Buuuut, until my new one comes in the post, I'm borrowing my Grandma's…. She has the same laptop as me. Slightly weird, but oh well. And that is the reason for my slightly-longer-than-usual-abscence.**

**So, here's the new chapter, and I just want to apologise in advance, because it goes on about Alyssa a bit at first D: I DON'T WANT THIS TO TURN INTO "Alyssa; The story (And Clive does some stuff too)" DX**

**I think I make up for it at the end, because… Well, you'll have to read and see ;)**

**Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

When Clive got to the car, he found that Luke and Flora were both sat in the back seats. He assumed that the professor wanted to talk to him, so he had somehow managed to get both of the children to sacrifice the beloved passenger seat. Raising an eyebrow, but saying nothing, he sat down next to the Professor.

"So, Clive, how did things go when you were alone?" Giggles could be heard from the back seats at Layton's words. Clive's cheeks turned red. "Alright…" He mumbled, looking at his feet. To be honest, he was sure why he suddenly felt embarrassed about everybody taking his friendship with Alyssa the wrong way. Maybe seeing her had suddenly changed this. Maybe seeing her had uncovered something that he hadn't felt in a while. Maybe seeing her had finally made him realise that-

"Just alright?" The Professor asked, interrupting his thoughts. Slightly relieved, he shrugged. "Well, we talked, said that we missed each other… She asked if I'd write to her, and I said yes. That was it, really."

The elder man nodded. "I see." He paused for a second. "So, Clive, what's Alyssa like?"

Clive gave a small laugh. "Didn't you see for yourself? She's very loud, and funny. She speaks her mind a lot, which often gets her into trouble. I'm fairly sure that she's never run from a fight, no matter how tough things got. And I wouldn't like to get on the wrong side of her."

"You wouldn't?"

He squirmed uncomfortably. This was it. It looked like he was going to have to tell them all. "Well… Alyssa got into a fight with her ex-boyfriend. That's not unusual for her, since she's always getting into fights… But this got serious. She said that she didn't do much damage, but he thought otherwise. Before she knew it, he'd started a court case. He claimed that his injuries needed hospital treatment- Alyssa swears that's not true though."

"And did he have any proof?"

Clive sighed. "Hospital records. And although she did everything in her power to prove that she was slightly more innocent than they thought… She couldn't. He won the case. And she got three years in prison."

Flora and Luke were silent. The Professor said nothing for a while, looking straight forwards at the road. An awkward air filled the car for a while, before he eventually broke it.

"Three years is quite a long time for that… The man must have had a good lawyer."

Clive thought for a moment, trying to remember what Alyssa had said about her ex-boyfriend's lawyer. Then it came to him. "I asked her about that once. I said the same as what you just did. And she told me that he did have a good lawyer; Himself." Before anybody could reply, he continued. "And the worst part is, he wasn't even a lawyer."

"It sounds to me like this fellow had ticked the jury and judge, then." A frown spread across the Professor's face.

"But wasn't fighting with her boyfriend the wrong thing to do, Professor?" Luke piped up, from the back of the car.

"Yes, Luke, it was. It seems like both of them were in the wrong."

The young man felt his cheeks burn once again. But this time, it was from anger. "Actually, Professor, I haven't told you the full story. Alyssa found out that her boyfriend was _pure evil." _Clive didn't know whether this was true or not, but he had to use Alyssa's words to support his argument. He was determined to prove that she wasn't fully guilty.

"When she confronted him about this, he proudly admitted it, and tried to, as she said, 'bring her over to the dark side'. Of course, she refused, and she dumped him. That was when the fight started." Clive paused. "I could go into more detail, however it apparently got gory. And it was the damage that _he _caused which was the worst."

There was a silence. Nobody knew what to say. Then, once again, the Professor broke it. "That's terrible. Anyhow, this topic isn't spreading the best mood, is it? Let's talk about something else." He thought for a moment, before continuing. "What does everybody want for dinner?"

"Ooh! Let's have meatloaf!" Luke piped up from the back seat. Clive smiled slightly. It didn't take much to change the atmosphere.

* * *

Days passed, and soon turned into weeks. As more time went on, Clive began to think of the Professor, Luke and Flora as… family. The children soon warmed up to him, and Layton was just as kind as always. Yes, the ex-convict could honestly say that he'd enjoyed his stay at the Layton household. It was the one place where he felt accepted, where he felt loved.

Clive learnt about their past adventures, and it made him feel slightly better to know that they didn't consider him the worst villain that they had crossed. In fact, every day he was beginning to feel a lot better, and was more confident about going out in public. Maybe he could get a job soon.

Right now, he was stood on the balcony, looking at the busy landscape. Everybody else had gone shopping, but Clive wanted some time to himself. Besides, he hated shopping. It was so _boring. _He'd rather stay home and do nothing than submit himself to that torture.

Suddenly, a voice tore him from his thoughts. "Ah, finally. I was wondering when I'd get you alone, Clive."

Clive froze. He didn't recognise that voice. But for some reason, he didn't turn around to see who it was. Perhaps because that was what the victims always did in horror movies, and then they always ended up getting stabbed or something. So he stayed right where he was.

There was an awkward pause, before Clive felt something spray on his face. He didn't even have time to wonder what he was, before he slumped over the railing of the balcony, unconscious.

Smirking to himself, the figure pulled him away from the edge by his blue jacket, and began dragging him through the house.

* * *

**Ooooooh, Clive's been kidnapped! …Or should I say… Clivenapped? *badum tssss***

**Random corny puns aside, who could this mysterious person be? We'll find out in the next chapter (or maybe the one after that…) so stay turned! ;3**


	8. Kidnapped

**A/N: Say hello to the new chapter! :D**

**Yaaay! No mention of Alyssa in this *celebrates* It's not going to turn into "Alyssa; the story (and Clive does some stuff too)"! :')**

**Anyways, this chapter is where stuff really starts. Hope you enjoy it! (:**

* * *

Clive opened his eyes groggily, only to be greeted by a sea of red. That was the only thing that he could see; Red. Puzzled, he blinked a few times, but the red remained. Now getting really confused, he tried moving his arms, only to find that they were tied up. Frowning, he tried to move his legs, with but got the same result.

Oh.

Memories came flooding back to Clive, and the pieces put themselves together. He had been kidnapped. He was tied to a chair, blindfolded (by something red), and gagged. Great.

But who could have done this?

As if on cue, the same voice rang out through the room- or wherever he was. It sounded slightly muffled, so it was safe to guess that the person, who was distinguishable as a man by his voice, was talking through a speaker.

"Good. You're awake. I was beginning to think that I'd used too much of the gas." A cold laugh rang out, and Clive narrowed his eyes.

"_Mph ngh mugh!"_

"…What?"

"_Mph ngh mugh!"_

"I can't- Oh, of course. How foolish of me." After his words, the gag fell from Clive's mouth. _Probably computer operated, _he thought.

"I said, who are you?"

"Well, Clive, I could tell you, but… That would ruin the surprise, wouldn't it?"

"Can you _at least_ tell me what you want with me?!"

"If you would kindly keep patient, I was just about to get to that."

Scowling, he made an attempt to cross his arms, before remembering that his arms were tied behind his back. Clive sighed, but said nothing, eager to hear what his kidnapper had to say.

"You see, over the years, I've gained a lot of enemies. Some of them- Two, to be exact- keep ruining my plans." He paused for a moment. "You know how that feels, don't you, Clive?"

"Relieving?"

"…That wasn't exactly the answer I was looking for. But, anyway, after a small pause in my activities, I've decided that I need to get them out of the way if I wish to continue."

"I'm not helping you kill anybody, if that's what you're suggesting." Clive suddenly felt a little worried. Perhaps this man was more ruthless than he'd thought.

Another laugh could be heard. "No, that wasn't what I was implying. Even if I was, they seem almost invincible. Actually, I want to build a sort of… inescapable hotel."

"And I come into that how, exactly?"

"Patience, Clive. Before you so rudely interrupted me, I was going to tell you." Clive's scowl grew at the man's words, but he allowed him to continue. "I've heard about your little stunt with 'Future London'-"

"Who hasn't…" The captive boy muttered, but was either ignored or unheard by his kidnapper.

"-And I must say, I was rather impressed by the architecture of it all."

"Thank you. Designed it all myself."

"No help from Dimitri?"

Clive froze. Dimitri's involvement had barely been mentioned in the papers, if it had been at all. How did he know about him? "No. He worked out the plan, and I came up with the designs."

"Good. Then I did the right thing by kidnapping you instead of him."

"Huh. I don't see how you can call any sort of kidnapping good."

"Easily. To get to the point, Clive, I want _you _to design the hotel."

"And what makes you think that I would?" He snapped. How dare this man abduct him from his home, and then tell him that he simply wanted him to design some weird hotel?

"Well, you don't really have much choice. Every time you do something that displeases me, then I do this." There was the sound of a button being pressed, and then Clive felt an electric shock run through his body. It wasn't much; It didn't really hurt at all, but it made him jump.

"Each time you feel this, it will get more and more painful." He could almost see the wicked grin, even though he couldn't see the speaker. "And the tenth one will be lethal. Your first chance has gone."

The colour drained from Clive's cheeks as he realised the seriousness of the situation. This man was basically saying that if he didn't follow his instructions, then he would be killed. He felt slightly dizzy, as the voice rang through his ears.

"Nine lives, Clive. Use them wisely."

Struggling to speak, he mumbled "Like you said, I don't have much choice…"

"Precisely. But I can't help feeling that your work would be a little better if you were willing to do this. Besides, I'm in a generous mood." The man told him, "So that is why I'm going to make a deal with you."

"I'm listening."

"If you build this hotel for me, and then I will capture a certain Bill Hawks for you, and leave you to do whatever you will."

Once again, Clive froze. Just when he had been getting better, someone had to do something like this. He knew right thing would be to say that he didn't _want _Bill Hawks. But he did. He so badly wanted to have his revenge, to make the Prime Minister feel the same pain that he had been through all of his life.

The kidnapper seemed to notice his uncertainty, and continued. "Having trouble making up your mind? Well, don't worry about that. I've already thought ahead."

Instantly, the ropes dropped from Clive's hands and feet. He was free? Curious, he untied the blindfold from his eyes, and let it fall to the floor.

And what he saw made his blood run cold.

Clive was home.

Not the Professor's home.

_His _home. _His parents' _home.

This was where he had grown up, if only for a short time. This was where he had so many memories of his parents, always laughing and smiling. But now they were gone. Bill Hawks had seen to that.

"Well?" The voice of the mysterious person brought Clive back to reality, to now.

"I... I'll do it."

* * *

**So, Clive's been kidnapped by a mysterious person, he's going to build the evil hotel of dooooom, and he's going to beat up Bill Hawks. Who is the kidnapper? Will he give Clive any more electic shocks? And more importantly, why am I asking **_**you **_**all of this? I already know the answers ;3 **

…**I think it's kinda obvious who the kidnapper is ._. Dunno whether you guys do or not. But anyway, I don't like this chapter. It's an important one, but… I just think it sucks :L**

**Please review anyway, even if it is to tell me how awful this is XD**


	9. Identity

**A/N: Hey guyyys!**

**Sorry this took so long. I had not-exactly-pretty-sure-it-wasn't-but-I'll-call-it-this-anyway-Writer's block. **

…**And the plot bunnies. They wouldn't go away. TT_TT So I ended up starting some random fanfictions for loads of different fandoms that I'll probably never upload/finish. **

**But, anyways, in this chapter, we find out who the very-obvious-kidnapper is! And, on the bonus side, there's another teeny weeny flashback! Yay!**

**Despite this good news, I don't like this chapter. Apart from the flashback. I enjoyed writing that :3**

**Hope you enjoy:D**

**PS: See if you can spot the remark Clive makes about me, the author. He aims it at his kidnapper, but the hidden meaning is that Clive's not impressed that I can't come up with inventive, original ways to do stuff XD Oh, Clive, you just have to learn in life that some people are very, ****_very _lazy, me being one of them :')**

**...And also he says the kidnapper has no imagination. That, again, is a little dig at me. I'm not good with clothes .**

* * *

"Wonderful," The voice told him, "I see you've finally come to your senses."

Clive barely heard him. He was too busy looking around, silently reminiscing about his childhood here. The kidnapper had done the worst possible thing, bringing him here. It felt as if his previous happiness had been extinguished, leaving only sadness behind. That was the only reason why he had agreed; He decided quickly, without even thinking about it, and he was already starting to regret his choice.

"Well, Clive," The speech of the person through the speakers snapped him back to reality. "I'm afraid that you won't have much time to reflect on your decision at the moment."

He raised an eyebrow. "Elaborate."

"You see, you're going to take a little trip to a top secret location- So obviously, it just wouldn't do if you saw the way."

Before he could reply, a mechanical noise could be heard. Looking around, he saw a small, metal tube come out of the wall. _Well that wasn't there when I lived here, _he thought. Getting closer to examine it, a blast of some sort of green gas came out of it. Clive spluttered and coughed, yet he couldn't help but breathe it in.

The last thing running through his mind as he slumped down on the floor, was that this person really needed a more inventive way to make his victims lose consciousness.

* * *

With a start, Clive opened his eyes. Where was he? What had happened? He frowned, gathering his thoughts. A strange person had kidnapped and gassed him, taking him to his old home, where they had convinced him to build a place to keep his enemies cooped up, in exchange for Bill Hawks. Then they had gassed him again, presumably to take him to their home, which was a "top secret location".

All in all, he hadn't had a very good day.

Sighing, Clive looked around the room he was in. The walls were a dark, dull grey, and the floor was laminated. In the corner, was a mahogany wardrobe, with a small desk and chair opposite to it. He was laid in a small, single bed, with white sheets covering him up. Pulling them off of him, he slowly got out of bed, and walked over to a small, arched window that was in the middle of one of the walls.

Clive pulled the black curtains open, to be greeted by bright, morning sunshine. It shone down onto the golden sand surrounding the castle, indicating that the building was on an island. The azure, crystal clear sea splashed against the shore, sparkling in the sunlight. True, the scene was beautiful, but he didn't see it like that. To him, the sand just showed how far he was from home, the sea showed just how trapped he was.

He pressed his hand against the window, before his eyes fell on his arm. Baggy, white pyjamas covered his body, hanging off of his skinny frame. With one last glare at the outside world, Clive walked over to the wardrobe, and opened the doors. There wasn't really much choice of things to change into; In fact, all of the clothes were exactly the same. The wardrobe was filled with black blazers, black trousers, emerald green ties and two pairs of grey shoes.

Rolling his eyes, he picked out an outfit and got dressed into it. At the moment, it seemed like the kidnapper had no imagination whatsoever. But that wasn't important right now- Clive had to find out who and where his kidnapper was.

* * *

After half an hour of wandering around the house- which was starting to seem like a mansion, or something, due to its size- Clive was ready to give up. He would try one more door, to see if it took him to his kidnapper, and then he'd give up. With no faith that they'd be in there whatsoever, he opened the door.

A long table covered most of the room, with lots of chairs surrounding it. On it, was a variety of breakfast food; Cereals, toast, pancakes, omelettes, bacon, eggs, French toast… he felt his stomach grumble. How long had it been since he'd last eaten? It was at least a day, he guessed. But, he thought, his kidnapper could have done anything to the food. Or it could be a trap. Ugh, but he was so hungry…

His eyes flickered to the end of the table. A figure was sat there, watching him with an amused smirk. Clive hadn't noticed him before, since he'd been too transfixed by the food. A frown began to spread across his face, as he studied this man. He seemed to fit the description that Luke had given him of a certain somebody perfectly.

"_Well," Luke had begun, when the professor and he were telling Clive about their past adventures, "He wears this hat; kinda like a cowboy hat, but like a pirate hat, too. And he's got this long cape, not like Superman's, like Dracula's. But without the weird sticky-uppy-collar thing. On his shoulders, he wears this weird fluffy thing, I don't really know what it is… It might be a sheep, poor thing-"_

"_Luke, I think that perhaps it might be a feather boa." Layton had corrected him._

"_Right. Oops. Anyway, I think that's pretty much it- Oh yeah. He wears this white mask- a bit like the Phantom of the opera's, but a full mask- and he never takes it off."_

_The Professor and Luke looked over to Clive, since he hadn't said anything since they'd begun their description. They young man, who had been sat in an armchair across from the sofa they were on, was laughing silently, his body moving as he did so._

"_I'm-sorry-but-he-just-sounds-so-ridiculous!" He'd told them, between laughs._

"_But he's not!" Luke protested._

"_Yes, Luke, I agree." Layton frowned deeply. "You should never underestimate him, Clive. He's quite the rogue, that Jean Descole."_

* * *

'**TWAS DESCOLE! :O NOBODY WAS EXPECTING THAT! …I'm totally kidding, I know that two people guessed it was him, and others probably did too. **

**I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING LUKE'S DESCRIPTION OF HIM :'D**

…**But I made the mistake of going on the PL wiki page for him, and I SAW A SPOILER FOR MoM DX WHYYYY CRUEL WOOOORLD?!**

**Which brings me onto another topic (that sounded too professional ¬_¬). Sorry if some events defy things that happened in Mask of Miracles/Miracle Mask/whatever the hell you want to call it, I haven't played it yet BUT SERIOUSLY. I'VE SEEN THREE SPOILERS NOW AND I AM NOT. HAPPY. GODAMMIT.**

**On a happier note, I WAS GONNA GIVE CLIVE A WARBLER'S UNIFORM (Any Glee fans out there?) OR A ONCE-LER PIMP SUIT (Anyone seen The Lorax?) BUT THEN I'D TURN THIS INTO THE ADVENTURES OF WARBLER CLIVE-LER. So yeah. I just gave him a green tie instead. XD**

**Sooo, hope you like this guys- I know I didn't ._. **

**Please review, also! I crave reviews. Almost as much as I crave bread. And marshmallows. But not marshmallow sandwich. They're gross. I tried one e_e**

**Adios, anyways!**


	10. Descole

**Remember me guys? o_o**

**Woah. I haven't updated in aaaages. Sorry about that. I had writer's block._.**

**Anyway, a super short chapter here, because... I don't know. It just seemed right to end it where I did. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"Good morning, Clive. I take it that you slept well?" Descole asked him, and Clive felt a surge of anger inside of him.

"Yes, _your gas saw to that._" He replied, through gritted teeth. His earlier assumptions that his kidnapper looked "ridiculous" had faded away. The man looked somehow menacing, with his cold eyes looking at him from beneath his mask. And that cruel smile- It was just awful, so much that a shiver through his body.

For the first time since he'd been kidnapped, Clive was scared.

From what he had heard about Descole, he showed no mercy to his enemies. Clive doubted that he'd be an exception. But what he was really scared of was his own part in the scientist's plans. He had to build… What had Descole called it? An "inescapable hotel". For his two enemies, presumably the Professor and Luke

Descole laughed, making Clive flinch. "Of course it did. So, Clive, have a seat."

Cautiously glaring at his companion, he sat down on a chair as far away from the older man as possible. When he was seated, he didn't say a word. He just glared dangerously at Descole, hoping that it would make him feel uncomfortable. Unfortunately, it had no such effect, since he just stared back, a smirk on his lips. Arrogant git. Clive was already regretting agreeing to this.

"Honestly, Clive, are you going to sit here gawping all day, or are you going to _eat _something?"

"I'm not hungry." He snapped back, just as his stomach gave a loud rumble.

"Clearly."

"Well how do I know you haven't poisoned it or something?"

"Clive, I brought you here to get a job done. If I wanted you dead, I would have killed you already."

"Fine." Clive picked up a piece of toast and took a bite out of it. Instantly, his mouth watered. It had been so long since he'd ate… Maybe a slice of toast wouldn't kill him.

Before he knew it, he'd eaten four slices of toast, a plate of bacon and eggs and three sausages. Oops. At least none of it was poisoned.

"Well, to say you 'weren't hungry', you didn't do so bad."

Clive glared at a smirking Descole. "You can hardly blame me. I haven't eaten in a day."

"Well, you were sleeping."

"Obviously."

Descole cleared his throat. "Anyway. I should think you're done now, so," He pressed a button under the table. Before Clive could even wonder what it did, his hands were forced behind the chair and chained to it by some invisible force. Well, there was probably a better explanation for it, but he didn't really care. He felt his feet get chained to it to and he rolled his eyes irritably.

"Oh, of course. The chair's a trap. I should've seen that one coming."

Descole didn't reply as he walked alongside the chair, which was now moving along some sort of track. For some reason, Clive found his silence even more annoying.

"Where do you even get one of these anyway?"

"I made it."

"You build moving chairs in your spare time. What a perfectly normal hobby."

"I should have built a gag too," Descole snapped. Clive couldn't help but smirk a little at his reaction. Good. If he was going to be forced to live with him, he was going to make it just as bad for Descole as it was for himself.

They turned a corner, and his brows knitted. "Where are we going anyway?"

Descole smiled coldly. "We're going to send a message."

* * *

**Heh. This is the part where I'd usually make Clive and Descole slowly start to fall in love with each other... If this story had Clive/Descole in it. Or if I shipped them. **

**Anyway, just to give you guys a heads up here... If this story goes according to plan (which it probably won't), then Clive is going to try and annoy the shit out of Descole. X3**

**Hope you enjoyed! Please read and review! :)**


	11. Message

**A/N: HAPPY (three months and three days belated) NEW YEAR!**

**Yes, I know, you all hate me. I hate me too. But anyone who's ever read any of my other stories will know that eventually, I end up updating all of my stories really slowly. I'm so sorry;A;**

**BUUUUUT. I will really really try to update quicker next time. Honestly. It's just that I got a tumblr account and watched the Avengers for the first time and got all of these new OTPs and… Yeah. You get the point. **

**Anyways, slightly extended chapter here. And also, you guys should go on Gizoogle, this website, and type the web address of one of this story's chapters into the search bar on it. Seriously, it is SO FUNNY. Just don't if you don't like swearing or anything XD**

**Well, enjoy the chapter!**

Clive frowned. Send a message? What was he talking about? "You don't need _me_ if you want to send a message. It's easy enough. See, all you need is a piece of paper and a pen, and-"

"You know as well as I do that wasn't what I meant." Descole interrupted, through gritted teeth.

"Well what _do _you mean? I'm getting sick of all of this mystery. There's really no need for it."

"Clive, if you don't _shut up…"_

"Alright, alright, I get the point. Honestly, people nowadays can't even take a joke."

They finally entered a room which was empty apart from a screen, which seemed to be showing a video of the professor, Luke and Flora sat on a sofa in front of their TV. In the corner or the screen, was a small box, which at the moment, was just plain black. Clive raised an eyebrow. "O-kay… Is there any point in asking what's going on?"

At first Descole didn't appear to be listening. He walked over to the screen and started pressing some buttons lined up neatly on the bottom of it. But just when Clive was about to repeat his words, he replied, "Actually, I was just going to tell you. Could you get any more impatient?"

"Probably not."

"_Well, _back in London, Layton and the children are going to be settling down to watch… 'Meerkat Manor' in approximately one minute and twenty five seconds. But, I've managed to hijack their television-"

"Clever you…" Clive mumbled sarcastically, but Descole didn't hear him, or chose to ignore him.

"-So we're going to make a slight change to their schedule."

"They're watching Meerkat Manor when they could be looking for me?" Clive cringed at how childish he sounded there. But, seriously? They weren't even looking for him?

"Oh, well, I forgot to mention, I left them a note saying that you were visiting your, ah, _friend _Alyssa, singed by you. I, or rather, _you _said that you might stay for a few days, so they won't be worrying about you." Descole told him. Clive tried to ignore the sarcastic emphasis put on the word "friend". They _were _just friends, why did everyone else think otherwise? To show that he didn't care, though, he just scowled, something he'd been doing an awful lot of ever since this morning.

"Great…"

"Anyway, there's only another forty-two seconds to go. Get ready." Descole took his place behind Clive, who sighed deeply. Why did they have to "send a message" to the professor anyway? He already felt incredibly guilty about agreeing to this whole thing, even though he'd had no choice. But seeing the professor would just make him feel even worse.

"By the way, Clive, this is just to exaggerate your condition slightly," Before he could even ask what "this" was, Descole took a remote control from his button and pressed a button. A familiar sensation ran through his body, a little worse this time, and Clive knew that this must be his ninth life, wasted. "And you can also consider that as a punishment for being rude."

Admittedly, that electric shock did hurt a tiny bit. He dreaded to think of how much the others would hurt. Maybe he should be more careful about what he said. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Clive saw the little black box on the screen light up. No, not light up- It showed him and Descole. They were being filmed already?

His own reflection surprised him slightly. His brown hair was messy and ruffled, looking dark against his pale skin. The dark circles which had formed over the past few years had started to fade, probably because of the amount of sleep he was forced to have. But his expression was what surprised him the most. He looked shocked, probably due to the fact that he literally had been, and confused. You could even go as far as to say that he looked almost scared, which he put down to the fact that he was thinking about his nine- now eight- lives.

He looked at Descole in the box, and only just realised that he was talking. And then, he realised that he was talking to the professor.

Clive mentally scolded himself. He'd not been paying attention to Descole, and therefore missed the start of filming. Even worse, he'd made himself look so stupid, and now the professor was bound to think that he was in a worse situation than he actually was. Descole had done that on purpose. Wasn't that what he'd said? That he was going to "exaggerate his condition"? Completely annoyed with himself and Descole, Clive cleared his head of thoughts and tried to listen to what was going on.

"Just what is the meaning of this, Descole?" The professor asked, sounding about as angry as he could. Descole smiled coldly.

"I'm afraid you'll just have to find your way here if you want to know. But I can assure you, I haven't just kidnapped Clive without a reason."

The professor folded his arms, seemingly trying to analyse what was going on. Descole ignored this action, though. "Well, Layton, don't you want a word with him?" He stepped backwards, indicating that they should talk. For a moment, there was just silence, as neither of them knew what to say. Clive stared at the floor, avoiding the professor's gaze, until he decided that he had to break the tension. He looked up, and smiled weakly.

"Well… I suppose I was right when I said there was no rest for the wicked."

"Clive, you're not-"

"Wicked? We've already been through this. Poisonous toadstools don't change their spots, professor."

"Yes, but you never were a poisonous toadstool, Clive."

His words just irritated Clive even more. He was sick of the professor's trust, because he knew he didn't deserve it. "Professor, I nearly destroyed the whole of London!"

"That's still no reason for you to deserve this-"

"I agreed to it, okay?!" Clive's voice had almost risen to a shout. All three people on the screen stared at him in shock. "I agreed to it…" He repeated, a lot quieter. Taking a deep breath, he continued. "So I don't want you, Luke or Flora to come looking for me. I'll be okay. Just don't risk your lives or… Or anything stupid and heroic like that."

"But Clive, you could be risking your own life…" The professor said, an almost pleading tone to his voice.

"So what? Nobody cares, professor. If I die, the world will go on exactly the same as it did when I was alive, if not better."

"I think you're being a little harsh on yourself there, Clive…"

"Even if I am, it's not far from the truth. So please, professor, just leave me here and I'll be fine. I-I'll try not to do anything really evil, I swear." Clive told them, his voice shaking slightly. He couldn't help it; now he was scared, for their sake and for his own. If he didn't obey Descole, then he'd surely be killed, but if he did, and then the professor would come looking for him.

"I… Alright, Clive. Until you're safe, I'll leave you be. But please, just try to stay out of trouble." The professor's eyes flickered towards Descole, and Clive understood what he meant. _Don't get yourself killed by being rude. _Before he could have much time to dwell on this, Descole stepped forwards, entering the conversation.

"Well, as _heartwarming _as this is, I'm afraid we're going to have to end this conversation here. We've got things to do, plans to plan… I'm sure you understand." Descole smirked into the camera, and Clive felt a burning feeling of hatred in the pit of his stomach. How on earth had the professor put up with him for years?

"Unfortunately, I do."The professor said. Beside him, Luke growled.

"You'll never get away with this, Descole!" He piped up.

"Oh really? Then I look forward to seeing you here trying to stop me." And with those words, the screen went black, and Clive got his last glimpse of the professor in what he imagined would be a long time.

**There it is! Please review, and once again, so sorry for the wait ._.**


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